


You Love Me, I Love You, Let's Make Out

by ScilesMcCallinski



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: First Kiss, Light Angst, M/M, Misunderstandings, Oblivious Scott, Past Scott McCall/Kira Yukimura, Scott McCall Loves Stiles Stilinski, Stiles Stilinski Loves Scott McCall, being all awkward and adorable, but it's barely mentioned, just a couple of dorks really
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-15
Updated: 2018-08-15
Packaged: 2019-06-27 15:31:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,962
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15688272
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ScilesMcCallinski/pseuds/ScilesMcCallinski
Summary: He really does have to question how he’s managed to do this twice now. At least with Kira, she felt the same about him, and once they got over all the misunderstandings, everything was okay.But Stiles? Scott knows the feelings are completely one-sided; he had just been hoping to pretend they were nonexistent. So that it wouldn’t ruin their friendship.The thought of this one little slip-up, one impulsive, stupid kiss being what finally does it, what finally breaks them… it leaves Scott’s stomach turning and his mouth dry with regret, and guilt, and just wishing that he could take it back.





	You Love Me, I Love You, Let's Make Out

“Look, all I’m saying is,” Stiles starts, adjusting the last string on his lacrosse stick. He pauses for a second, using his teeth to tighten it. Then he spits it back out and continues, “There’s totally a possibility that vampires are real.” 

He gets off the bench to stand with Scott and is met with a disbelieving but amused look from him. 

“Dude, no,” Scott says, unable to stop grinning. “There is absolutely no way that vampires are real. And before you say it,” he hurries on when Stiles opens his mouth to argue, “werewolves and vampires are totally different things. At least with werewolves, they’re sort of realistic. But Vampires?” he shakes his head. “No way, dude.” 

Stiles stares at him, mouth agape as his eyes narrow incredulously. He glances over at the field as he throws his hands up, and catches a glimpse of Liam on the other side, talking away to Brett - a member of the opposing team. 

Thankfully for Liam, Stiles doesn’t have the time to be exasperated enough with him to go over there and drag him back over to join his own team. This discussion with Scott about whether vampires could be real or not is far more important. 

“Okay,” he says, turning back to Scott. “So, Werewolves are realistic. Right? Breaking every single bone in your body as you shift into an overgrown dog, simply because the moon is full and you have this weird desire to howl at it, is somehow realistic. But being fed some vampire blood, then dying and coming back to life as a vampire, somehow isn’t realistic to you?”

Scott tilts his head to the side, eyebrows furrowing in confusion. “Hold on, are we having this conversation right now because you watched the new episode of The Originals without me?” 

“What - no, of course not. I would never do that,” he lies, laughing it off. “That’s, like, our thing. I absolutely did not watch the new episode last night.” He shakes his head and Scott just raises his eyebrows, a grin tugging at his lips. “Nope. Definitely did not do that.” 

Scott nods slowly, obviously not believing him but playing along all the same. “Okay. Oh, by the way, I completely forgot what happened in the last episode -  Josh was saving Marcel or something, right?”  

Stiles practically scoffs, already falling straight into Scott’s trap. “Oh, you mean when he’s not busy being dead? Yeah, sure.” 

There’s a brief pause, just a few seconds where they’re both silent and Stiles realises what he just did. 

“He wasn’t dead in the episode we watched, was he?” 

“Nope.” 

Stiles curses then groans. “Okay, so, I may have watched a little bit of the new episode last night - but it was only like ten minutes of it and it’s not like-” 

“McCall!” Coach’s voice cuts through Stiles’, making him stop mid-sentence as he and Scott spin around to look at him. “Why the hell aren’t you on the field? And Stilinski - the both of you! The game’s starting! Get over here with the rest of your team, or you’ll be doing suicide runs until you’re a hundred and one.”

Stiles turns back to Scott, pointing his thumb over his shoulder as he goes to slowly back away. “I guess that’s our cue?” 

Scott shakes his head at him, his grin returning, knowing he’s trying to get out of this conversation. “Okay, but we’re talking about this later. And you’re definitely rewatching the entire episode with me.” 

Stiles opens his mouth to respond - about to say that of course he is, he wasn’t just planning on not watching it with him - but before he even gets a chance to say one word, Scott’s leaning in, pressing their lips together in a quick kiss.

Then he’s taking off so fast in the direction of the field, joining the rest of their teammates and leaving Stiles standing there, eyes wide and jaw on the ground.

“Stilinski! Get over here!” 

Coach’s voice kicks him back into reality and he takes a second or two before hurrying over to the team. As hard as he tries to catch Scott’s eye in the few seconds they have before the game officially starts, he fails. 

How the hell is he supposed to concentrate on winning now when all he wants to do is kiss Scott again and tell him that he’s been in love with him for years? 

 

\- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

 

As soon as he’s with the rest of the team and Liam’s just staring at him, jaw practically on the ground and his eyebrows pretty much out of sight, the realisation hits Scott. 

His eyes go wide, a quiet, “oh god,” slipping past his lips. 

He really does have to question how he’s managed to do this twice now. At least with Kira, she felt the same about him, and once they got over all the misunderstandings, everything was okay.

But Stiles? Scott knows the feelings are completely one-sided; he had just been hoping to pretend they were nonexistent. So that it wouldn’t ruin their friendship. 

The thought of this one little slip-up, one impulsive, stupid kiss being what finally does it, what finally breaks them… it leaves Scott’s stomach turning and his mouth dry with regret, and guilt, and just wishing that he could take it back.

As soon as Coach shouts at Stiles, Scott’s eyes widen and he looks at Liam. 

Before he can even say anything though, Liam’s already shaking his head. 

“No,” he says. “You are not dragging me into… whatever this is.” He gestures behind Scott, talking fast; presumably in the hopes of getting away before Stiles reaches them. “Sort this out yourself. I didn’t kiss him, you did.”

He then turns away from Scott under the pretense of wanting to go talk to Brett as they get into their starting positions, obviously just using it as an excuse to leave the situation. 

Scott quickly follows him, not knowing what else to do. Fortunately for him, Stiles doesn’t get the chance to question him before the game starts. And when he catches his eye for just a second after making a shot, Scott tries to play it cool, flashing him a grin as if the kiss never happened.

Of course, all that really does is make Stiles’ confusion and frustration at Scott’s avoidance grow.

As soon as the game’s over, the whole team heads for the locker rooms, celebrating over their surprising victory against Devonford. They’re all shouting and cheering, so loud, while Scott and Stiles are both quiet, somehow ending up walking next to each other. 

Neither of them tries to say anything to each other - they wouldn’t be heard over their teammates anyway. 

But then they’re in the locker rooms, and they both seem to be changing as slowly as possible. Soon enough, they’re the only two left in the room, the rest of their teammates having gotten changed quickly so they could go out and celebrate. 

Scott watches as Stiles pretends to be struggling to fix the buttons of his shirt he’s already done and then proceeded to undo four times, and Scott can’t take it anymore.

Apparently, neither can Stiles as he gives up with an exasperated sigh, hands dropping to his side as he looks at Scott and they both start talking at the same time. 

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have-” 

“Okay, what the hell is-” 

They both stop short. There’s a brief pause, waiting to see who’ll speak first.

Scott sighs and starts again. “I’m sorry,” he repeats, quiet this time but still as sincere. “I shouldn’t have kissed you, I just - I wasn’t thinking. It was like a… spur of the moment kind of thing. I didn’t even realise I did it until after.”

Stiles doesn’t respond straight away. He just stares at Scott, eyes narrowing as he seems to think something over. Scott tries to ignore his own heartbeat going crazy.

Then he asks, “did you want to do it?” 

Scott closes his eyes, swallowing the lump that’s risen in his throat. He could say no, could pretend that he doesn’t still want to kiss him again so badly, that it meant nothing. Lie and say he doesn’t have any sort of feelings for him. 

He nods. And before he can stop himself, it all comes pouring out of his mouth at once. 

“I just didn’t want to say anything because I didn’t want to ruin anything between us. I didn’t want to lose you. I still don’t. And I-” He pauses, shaking his head as he tries to find the right words. “This wasn’t exactly how I wanted you to find out that I’ve been in love with you since we were twelve… I didn’t want you to find out at all, actually. But-” 

“Wait, what?” Stiles asks, cutting him off as his eyebrows furrow, his confusion clear on his face. “That’s what this was all about? The ignoring me straight after kissing me in front of pretty much everyone we know and avoiding my blatant attempts to talk to you?” 

Scott wants to groan at how obviously not-subtle he was being. Why did he think that would actually work?

He just nods again, trying to push down the sense of dread that’s building inside of him at what comes next. But it’s a little hard to do with how much his stomach’s still twisting, and turning, and making him just a little nauseous.

Stiles may not say it to his face but there’s no way that this hasn’t changed everything. He really has screwed this up now, hasn’t he? He didn’t even get a second to enjoy the kiss that’s about to ruin their friendship.

“Jesus Christ, Scott,” Stiles practically groans, casting his eyes to the ceiling before looking at him again in…  _relief_. “You had me worried you were mad at me or something. You can’t do something like that, alright? Next time you kiss me, you can’t ignore me and pretend it didn’t happen.”

Scott’s mind gets stuck on that last part, “Next time?” 

Stiles raises his eyebrows at him, “Yeah? Did you not just say you’re in love with me?” 

He says it so casually, like it’s no big deal, and Scott nearly chokes just at hearing him say it at all. 

“I mean, yeah - I did - I do. I do love you, but I…” He stops, taking a deep breath as he tries to get his words right. 

There’s just one thing that’s bothering him right now, and his voice gives away just how afraid he is of the answer as he asks, “Why aren’t you mad at me? I don’t - I just told you I love you, and I kissed you out on the field in front of everyone. Shouldn’t you… I don’t know, shouldn’t you at least be upset?” 

There’s silence. Scott hates having heightened senses in moments like these; they just make things more nerve-wracking, being able to heart Stiles’ heart speeding up, smelling his chemo-signals-

“Oh my god, you’re such a dumbass,” Stiles finally says, his head slowly moving back and forth as he stares at Scott in disbelief. 

“What-” Scott gapes at him, confusion overtaking any sort of indignation he might have felt at the comment in any other situation. 

Stiles actuallyrolls his eyes at him, an exasperated noise escaping his lips that has a sense of fondness to it. 

“Dude, the only thing I’m upset about right now - well, there’s actually two things,” he quickly corrects himself, holding up two fingers. “One is that you’re the most oblivious werewolf I’ve ever met, and I don’t even understand how that’s physically possible. Seriously, you’re supposed to be, like, all-knowing now when it comes to these kinds of things.” 

“I’m a werewolf, not psychic!” 

Stiles ignores his slightly offended protest by putting down one of his fingers and continuing, “And the second thing I’m upset about is that the kiss didn’t last longer. Come on, dude - I know that we were in public, but I kind of expected more from our first kiss, you know?” 

Scott stops. His mouth hangs open, having been about to shoot back some sort of response that’s now completely gone from his mind as he just stares at Stiles.

He manages a slightly choked, “what?” unsure of how else to respond. 

Sure, Stiles has joked about them making out, and made more than one flirty remark towards him, accompanied by the odd suggestive wiggle of eyebrows or smirk. But Scott’s sure they were all just  _jokes_. 

Stiles moves closer again and Scott’s really glad he’s the werewolf and not Stiles, because there’s no way he’d be able to hide his own heartbeat racing in his chest from him.

It’s then that he realises he isn’t the only one who’s nervous. He was too distracted to pick up on it before, but Stiles’ pulse is all over the place, despite the calm, even teasing, look on his face.

“It’s really simple, if you think about it,” he says, his grin brightening. Scott wonders if he’s always been this good at hiding how he really feels. “You love me, I love you. So, really, I feel like the next step is definitely for us to make out.” 

Scott just barely catches the words “I love you,” and he’s not entirely sure if it’s hearing Stiles say that, tell him what Scott never thought he was going to hear in the way he hoped for, that gives him a sudden burst of confidence, or if it’s something werewolf related, but it doesn’t matter. 

His mouth curves up into what he thinks is a sort of grin but also possibly a smirk at the same time, and while ignoring the tugging in his chest and stomach, he leans forward. There’s still space between the two of them, of course, because Scott isn’t  _that_  confident, despite the earlier kiss. 

But it’s just enough for Stiles’ eyes to widen a little, his grin slipping. 

Scott pauses, satisfaction washing over him when he catches Stiles’ eyes darting to his mouth, his tongue darting out to lick his own lips, and his heart somehow speeding up even more.

“I mean, I’m up for it if you are,” Scott says, sinking his bottom teeth into his lip. He watches Stiles’ eyes linger on it for a second before snapping up to meet his. 

“Do you seriously even have to ask if I want to make out with you?” 

Before Scott can respond, or even think up a good response that isn’t “yeah, I actually do because I have no idea what’s going on right now,” Stiles is closing the gap between them.

His lips press against Scott’s, catching him by surprise. He didn’t plan this far ahead; how was he supposed to know Stiles would just go for it? 

Still, a second later and he’s melting into it, into Stiles, and his lips that are surprisingly soft considering how often Scott’s seen him chewing on them. 

He presses forward a little, more experimental than anything else. He obviously has experience in the kissing department, but - that’s different. This is different. It’s Stiles. He doesn’t want to mess anything up with him.

But Stiles doesn’t seem to have any complaints; he actually pulls Scott closer, a hand moving to the back of his neck, his fingers stroking along the fine hairs there and sending a shiver through Scott.

When they break apart, there’s a second or two where they’re just staring at each other, Stiles’ eyes darting down to Scott’s kiss-swollen lips, fingers still at the base of his neck, and Scott can’t take his eyes off the red tint that’s spreading across Stiles’ face. 

Scott licks his lips, tries to force himself to ignore Stiles’ eyes following the movement once more, and starts to say, “So, that just happe-” 

“McCall! Stilinski! Where the hell are those two?” 

The sound of Coach’s voice, not too far from the locker rooms, is actually what breaks the air of awkwardness that was about to start forming at any second. And what makes them both nearly jump ten feet in the air.

Stiles flicks his eyes from the closed door to Scott, his grin returning as bright as before, but his eyes shining with something else. Something that Scott never wants to disappear. 

“How long do you think we have before he finds us?” 

Scott’s eyebrows shoot up and it barely takes a second for Stiles to realise why. 

He rolls his eyes at him, “Dude, that’s not what I meant. I was just curious if we had time for another make out session.” 

Scott scrunches his nose, “Not if you call it a make-out session.” 

“What else am I supposed to call it, huh? Just casually kissing my buddy for a long amount of time? Preferably involving tongues, and if-” 

“Oh god, please stop,” Scott says, laughing, and reaches forward, settling his hands on Stiles’ waist. He’s still nervous, but Stiles relaxes straight into his touch and it eases a little. “What about just kissing your boyfriend for an extended amount of time?” 

Stiles’ eyes widen, and for a second, Scott worries that maybe that was a step too far. But then Stiles is leaning down, pressing his lips to Scott’s again, but softer, slower. 

“Boyfriend has a nice ring to it,” he smiles, lips still brushing against Scott’s. “So does a makeout session with my boyfriend.” 

Scott closes his eyes, grinning, “you’re such a dork.” 

Stiles hums and presses another kiss to Scott’s lips, then says, “But I’m your dork.” 

Scott’s stomach twists, but not like before; it’s a feeling of happiness, joy. He looks at Stiles, and the feeling only grows. 

“Yeah, you are.” 


End file.
